Fractures
by astraplain
Summary: Trust is fragile.


::Disclaimer: Ray and Florian belong to You Higuri.::

"Tell me!" Ray demands as he brings the whip down again. His face is twisted with rage, his eyes dark and merciless. Florian turns his face away and waits, silent, for the next lash.

"Whore." Ray grips Florian's jaw tightly, his fingers pressing hard into the delicate flesh. It's painful and Ray knows it but he doesn't ease his grip, even when Florian's tear-filled eyes turn towards him.

"I saw you with that man. I watched as he handed you money. Now tell me! What have you done?"

Florian still can't move his head, but he looks away and remains silent. He won't dignify these accusations with denials. If Ray believes him guilty, nothing Florian says will change his mind.

Ray finally releases Florian's jaw. The younger man snarls as he steps back, gripping the handle of the whip, preparing himself as he moves around to Florian's untouched back. The blond's wrists are chained overhead, suspended in the center of the room, with his body naked and exposed for any punishment Ray chooses to give. They're alone, Laila and the men sent away, not out of consideration for Florian's state, but because Ray will not tolerate anyone else looking at his Amethyst.

It was supposed to be different now. After nearly two years of patience, of victories and setbacks, they had finally reached the point where they were both ready for more than kisses and soft caresses.

Was it really only two days ago that it had all been destroyed? Ray had sent Florian out on errands as a way of get him out of the house. He'd prepared the bedroom personally, moving Florian's belongings into the spaces he'd made in his own room. Laying out the beautiful new comforter and pillows and finally, heading off to the jeweler to pick up the ring he'd commissioned.

But that's when it all went wrong. He'd caught a glimpse of a familiar blond head far from where he should have been. Out of curiosity, Ray had followed. And that's when he'd seen his would-be lover standing far too close to a distinguished, well-dressed older man. He'd watched as they talked quietly together, his surprise turning to anger as Florian touched the man's arm lightly and gave him a smile. But it was the stranger's expression, and the small stack of bills he discretely handed Florian that turned Ray's anger into ice-cold fury.

Abandoning his trip to the jeweler's, Ray had returned home and barked out instructions to Laila and his men. Then he'd changed into more appropriate clothing and gone into his study to wait. He'd chain-smoked seven cigars before Florian returned, smiling and unaware of what was to come.

As instructed, Jameson and Phelps met Florian in the foyer. Before the blond understood what was happening, they seized him and dragged him to the cellar. Florian put up a good fight, as Phelps' black eye indicated, but he was no match against the two much larger men.

"What's happened?" Florian demanded as soon as Ray appeared in the cellar. "Why am I here?" He rattled his chains for emphasis, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion. When Ray just stood there, regarding him coldly, he stilled. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Where were you today?" Ray countered. Beneath the rage, a part of him hoped for a simple answer, something that could salvage what he wanted so desperately. He'd trusted Florian. Surely he of all people understood what that meant. Especially since Azura...

"You sent me out on errands. Don't you remember?"

"Since when are the bookseller and the chemist anywhere near the Rue St Pierre?" The reaction was subtle, barely a reaction at all, but Ray saw it and took it as all the proof he needed.

"Who was that man?" he demanded, moving to stand directly in front of Florian. "What did he give you?"

Florian's gaze faltered and he refused to answer. It was as good as a confession, as far as Ray was concerned. He stripped the blond with brutal efficiency, refusing to damage the expensive clothes. Perhaps he'd sell them and the other beautiful things he'd given Florian over the years, and give the blond clothing more befitting his nature. After all, a common whore had no need of finery.

The first lash and the second were delivered without warning, leaving cruel red stripes across the blond's chest. It wasn't the first time the blond had been whipped, but it was by far the most brutal. Ray was breathing hard from the exertion and Florian was trembling, but that wasn't why it finally stopped.

Those pain-filled amethyst eyes burned him. They stared at him without comprehension or confession, even when he stilled the whip and set it aside. They burned him even when Ray closed the door to the cellar and left Florian, chained up, naked and bleeding, in the dark.

"No one is to go down there until I say otherwise," Ray snapped, brushing past a worried Laila. He shut himself up in his study and didn't come out again until dawn.

Ray spent the day out, making up errands to occupy himself until well after supper. He spent the evening in a brothel with a blond who was pale and slender but whose eyes were watery blue. Rather than relieve tension, it only served to make it worse and Ray returned home in the early morning in a foul mood.

With barely a nod to Laila, he proceeds to the cellar, finding a miserable Florian shivering in the cold dampness. He's in need of a bath and medical treatment, but first Ray wants answers. What he gets is silence.

It's exhausting. More exhausting than even the ice-cold rage, and finally Ray surrenders. Two years of hope, gone, and in its place is nothing.

Nothing.

He releases Florian without a word and catches him before he can fall. Florian's look of surprise, then suspicion, breaks him a little more. Ray wants only to leave him and this room but he doesn't. Instead he wraps his outer robe around the blond and watches as Florian tests his strength.

Two faltering steps and Florian drops, but he brushes aside Ray's outstretched hand and regains his footing. He moves painfully, fully aware of the humiliation that awaits him upstairs when he faces Laila and the others. Ray watches as he steels himself and keeps moving.

Florian's clothing is still lying on the floor where Ray tossed it two days ago and he picks it up slowly, his back deliberately turned away from Florian. He doesn't want to see him or think about him for a few minutes, no matter how futile the wish.

"Ray."

Despite himself, he turns to see Florian in the doorway, bracing himself. It takes considerable effort not to close the distance between them. Not that it's even possible now, regardless how close they are physically.

"The jacket pocket. Inside." Florian's voice falters and then falls silent, but he remains, waiting as Ray searches the jacket for whatever he might find. The inside pocket contains a few low-denomination bills and a small pouch. Ray glances at Florian who watches silently, face expressionless.

The pouch is simple black velvet with a drawstring at the top. Ray opens it, his heart beating fast. He has a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach and thinks he can still taste last night's brandy.

"Do what you will with it." Florian tells him coldly as Ray stares at the simple gold band set with a rectangular black onyx. There is no etching or jewel to distract from the perfect, smooth black surface. Ray can see his own reflection in it as he studies it.

A soft sound tells him that Florian is gone, but when he looks up, those amethyst eyes are still watching him. He drops the jacket and the money, holding onto only the ring, which he carries over to the waiting blond.

"Why?" Ray asks desperately.

"Does it matter now?" Florian counters. He's pale and his breathing is ragged, but he remains standing on his own strength.

"You should have told me. You should have let me know it was all a misunderstanding." He is almost pleading now, his despair turned to fear.

"You should have trusted me."

The words wound him, flaying him just as his whip had flayed Florian. Ray nods, accepting the truth of those words.

"I thought you... that you and that man." To his immense embarrassment, Ray's voice breaks and he looks away. He's startled when he feels a cool hand on his own.

"I would never betray you, Ray. I know what you've suffered. How others have hurt you. I would never do that." Florian gives him a sad smile. "I wish you could say the same."

Ray watches as Florian turns away, continuing his painful journey up out of the cellar. Ray aches to pick him up and carry him, to feel the blond's warmth against his chest, his comforting weight in his arms. He doesn't move. He has no right to want those things now.

"Ray?" Florian's voice is soft but strong, without a quaver. Ray closes his fist around the ring and hurries to Florian's side. He's waiting on the first step.

"What's wrong? Do you need help?"

Florian reaches out to Ray and takes his hand. Ray stares at the intertwined fingers as if he can't comprehend what he's seeing. He looks up and is surprised to see Florian's smile, no matter how faint it is.

"Carry me?" It's a huge concession and Ray knows he would never have been able to make it.

He's shamed by his actions and has to look away. He's surprised to feel Florian's hand gently caress his face.

"Your back. I might hurt you."

"Yes, you might." Florian concedes, then adds, "But I trust you. I've trusted you from the start."

Ray realizes the truth of those words and he's stunned that he never understood before. It shames him more and his chest tightens with misery. Two years he's spent pursuing his Amethyst. Two years of patience and caring, almost ruined by his mindless jealousy.

He feels pressure behind his eyes and wonders if he's so far gone that he might cry. He risks a look up at the blond who is waiting so patiently for him and wonders how he could ever deserve such a man.

"I need your strength," Florian tells him, almost as if he's reading Ray's mind. "In return, I'll give you my trust."

Ray nods and carefully picks up the blond, cradling the slender body against his chest. He moves deliberately, trying not to hurt Florian any more. He feels the blond rest his head against his shoulder and almost smiles.

He doesn't see the pain in Florian's eyes or understand how desperately the blond hopes that Ray's strength will be enough to hold together the pieces of his fractured heart.

::end::


End file.
